In Your Embrace At Last
by LesMisLoony
Summary: COMPLETE. Yay it's the threquel! Last installment of the Words of Love thing. With the love quadrilateral missing a point, we end up with a couple and a random psycho bystander! PG13 for V, L, SC.
1. Who Bears My Face

A/N- Bienvenue, readers old and new! Welcome to the angst-ridden, tragic, depressing continuation of my little trilogy, Words of Love. Just for no particular reason, I'm going to throw in a brief summary of the saga thus far. In the original, Nina, an actress in Les Mis, thought she loved a handsome chap called Scott, but in the end realized that Mark was a better guy than he was. Scott, however, randomly decided that he liked Nina and dumped his own girlfriend, Danielle, ruining her life. Scott is then daily traumatized by Nina and Mark's cutsie perfect relationship and gets drunk and rapes Nina. Good choice, right? No. He wakes up, realizes what he's done, has some random bad childhood flashbacks, and loses his mind. Nina ends up finding out she's pregnant with Scott's kid and tries to dump Mark over it, but he ends up proposing to her. Scott jumps off a bridge and dies. You already knew that, but I thought I'd tell it once more because it's so much fun and because I'm putting off typing the first chapter of the threquel because I haven't finished writing it in my purple notebook of fanfiction. _-takes a deep breath-_ Hyper? Yes, I am. Anyway... praise for the plot of "In Your Embrace At Last":

"That sounds good! I think it's the best one yet." –Pink Velvet, the wonderful plot artist of the sequel

"Hahahahahaha! Wait... who died?" –Janet, my life-long best friend who really does love me, I'm sure

"I don't have _time_ to read it! I've got so much to do at school and I've got a whole new batch of kids this year and..." –My mother, who still doesn't know who Mark is

And another brief word or two: in the last chapter of the sequel I didn't quite make it clear who was who – the bearded guy was John. Not like a super Amish beard, just one of those Valjean goatee things. Also, every other chapter in this fic is a flashback, just to let you know. It shouldn't be too confusing. Hopefully.

And then I begin...

* * *

Jehan glared at himself in the dressing room mirror.

It wasn't that he was a bad-looking guy – nothing could be further from the truth. He ran a comb through his sandy brown hair and frowned at it.

It just didn't add up.

_By the time a guy is fifteen_, Jehan thought, _he should at least be able to tell that he belongs to his parents._

He leaned closer to the glass.

Nothing had changed, of course. Those same dark brown eyes, the same sandy hair... If he stared for a long time he could see traces of his mother... But there was nothing from his dad.

Both of his parents had blue eyes and dark hair – his mother's was brown and his father's was black. No one in his family had brown eyes or light hair. No one at all.

This hadn't really bothered Jehan as he was growing up, but now that he was older he began to notice. All kinds of crazy thoughts had crossed his mind. When he was thirteen he had believed that John, the family best friend and sitter, was his real father. But John had to be at least ten years older than his parents: somewhere in his forties. And he was much closer to Jehan's father than his mother.

Jehan had once reached the conclusion that he was adopted. He knew his mother had trouble having healthy children – two newborn siblings of his were buried behind the church. But every time this thought crossed his mind he again noticed that he had some of his mother's features...

What else could he believe?

Someone knocked on the dressing room door, jolting him out of his thoughts. "Jehan?"

It was Amy.

Jehan immediately found color rising to his cheeks, and he had to clear his throat several times before he could respond. "Yeah?"

"Can I... talk to you?"

"Sure, just let me finish getting out of these Jewish clothes... I mean... hold on a sec." He yanked on his jeans and buttoned them quickly, smoothing down one last stray lock of hair before he opened the door.

Amy had already changed out of her villager costume. "Jehan, about the dream scene... I get all tangled in the cobwebs and have to get them off in about three seconds flat. I was wondering... could you kinda... help me... tomorrow? I mean..." she began to explain all at once, "just that well I noticed you weren't in the scene and I thought that maybe since I had to get back onstage so fast without the spiderwebs so that we can do that mini-rumor scene about Tzeitel marrying Motel instead of Lazar and-"

"Sure," Jehan said smoothly. He put a hand up to lean against the doorframe but missed, catching himself and regaining his posture in the split second that Amy looked down at her tennis shoes.

"Well? Aren't you coming to wait for your parents at the stage door?"

"Sure," he repeated, nodding a little too enthusiastically. She smiled at him, and he added, "Just one second," before ducking back into the dressing room. Again he looked at himself in the mirror. _Should I ask her now? Today? Nothing in my teeth... that's good. Yeah, I'm gonna do it. I'll ask her. I'll ask Amy to supper._

His decision made, Jehan left the theater.

Amy was standing by the door, watching the others sign autographs and go home. She didn't turn her head when Jehan joined her. "I get my permit soon."

"I've got mine... My parents just won't buy me a car. Mom says we don't have enough money because... something about Paris. And then she and Dad start laughing and reminiscing and annoying the general populace."

"Aw... that's so sweet," Amy said, smiling at him again. "My parents are divorced."

"Mine act like they just started going out yesterday."

"Why don't you have enough money?"

Jehan realized what he'd said and felt his cheeks burning. "It's... it's not that we're _poor_ or anything, just that they let me keep my salary from this show and Mom hasn't worked since I was born, so we all live off of Dad's pay from Joseph."

"Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat? I love that show! Who does your dad play?"

"He just joined, so he's still an understudy."

"Oh. So your parents are actors too? What shows have they been in?"

"Well... they met while they were in Les Misérables, which my mom dropped out of after she married Dad. He stayed with there for a few years, and... and... Amy? I have a... a question."

"Yeah?"

"D'you..." he took a deep breath to steady his nerves, "wanna... wanna go out to eat with me? For supper? Or did you eat between shows?"

She grinned. "I didn't, and I'd love to."

"Really? You'd love to?"

"Yeah. There's my mom. I'll go ask her, okay?"

"Great... wonderful!" Jehan answered, watching her leave.

It was at this moment that his parents arrived.

"Jehan!" Nina called. "How'd you do?"

"Fine, I did fine. Mom, listen, I-"

"There he is! Best villager in Anatevka!" Mark said upon joining them.

"Sure. Dad, Mom, listen-"

"So, did you do anything interesting?"

"Um... No, Mom, I just wandered around and sang, like I do every night. But I'm going out to eat with Amy, if-"

"You have a date! Oh, Mark, he met her in a show, just like us!"

Mark smiled and took her hand. "Do you remember when-"

"Oh, that is it!" Jehan shouted. "Just stop it! I'm trying to tell you I have a date, and all you can talk about is your stupid love life!"

"Jehan-"

"Shut up, Dad! Just listen to me for once, and don't think about yourself!"

"Don't you dare speak to your father that way!"

"I don't speak to my father that way! I don't even know who my father is!"

Silence fell in the group. Nina paled and Mark put and arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. "He doesn't know what he's talking about, Nina... Don't-"

"I know exactly what I'm talking about! I just don't know why the hell you keep lying to me!"

"_Jehan!_" Mark nearly shouted. He glanced nervously around at the people nearby, but no one had heard the conversation.

"I'm going to the café on the corner," Jehan said stiffly. "You aren't my father, so stop trying to be!" He hurried over to Amy who nodded cheerfully, waved at Mark and Nina, and followed him down the street.

Mark watched the two leave, then looked down at Nina. Her hand had gone to her stomach – something he hadn't seen her do since she was pregnant with Jehan. "Nina? Come on, we're going back to the car."

He closed the passenger door after her, went around, and slid into the driver's seat. Neither said anything for a few moments. Mark was staring at the windshield, and Nina had covered her face in her hands. Another moment passed. Mark broke the stillness by running a hand through his hair. "The _nerve_ of that boy!"

"He knows..." Nina whispered, lowering her hands to clutch at her stomach again. "Dear God, how does he know?"

Mark leaned over and pulled her arms toward him, taking her hands in his. "He was bound to notice sometime, Nina. I mean, look at me! Look at him! Look at him, Nina. He's-"

His cell phone rang, and he held it up. "That'll be him. I can't... I don't want to speak with him right now. Can you?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. Mark pressed the phone into her free hand and she answered it.

"Mom? Mom... I didn't mean to... to... well..."

"What do you want, Jehan?"

"Somebody come pick me up in about an hour, okay?"

Nina didn't answer, and Mark raised his eyebrows.

"Mom? Can you come?"

"I'll pick him up," Mark whispered.

"Your father will," she answered firmly.

"But Mom!"

"In an hour."

"Mom!"

"And we'll have to talk to you when you get home. Enjoy your first date, Jehan. It might be your last."

"Mom!"

She turned off the phone, and Mark grinned slightly. "Well handled."

"Thanks," Nina answered, smiling shakily.

"D'you think he got talking like that from television?"

"I don't know... Maybe he got it from Danielle."

"Danielle?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember the five year cast reunion."

"Oh," Mark groaned. "Don't we have another one of those coming up?"

"We'll ask John when we get home, okay? He shoulda put our kid to sleep by now."

"One can only hope," Mark smiled.

He started up the car.


	2. Now I Remember

A/N- AUGH! For anyone who was bored enough to go back and look at Scott's original description, you might have noticed that I erroneously said that he had gray eyes. I said this because the fella I'm infatuated with and stalking has gray eyes, although I didn't realize that I'd typed that. Did that make sense? Anyway, my point here is that Scott's eyes are meant to be brown, as that's the color they are in my rough draft and it's the color of Jehan's eyes. Brown... not gray. Thank you.

nebulia- Erm... they try. But, yeah, you were my first reviewer! -gives free cyber cookie-

Obsetress- Ah, you shall see... now. Oh... I think I may have mentioned this but... we have the same birthday! GASP!

Danica Enjolras- Marky Mark Mark needs all the huggles he can get. Actually, everyone in this story needs huggles...

T-R-Us- Fun image, ain't it? It honestly shouldn't matter, but... whatever. Lack of Coke and chocolate make you hyper? Interesting...

elenlaurelin- One big AWs are good too. Wow, my grammar check just had a fit... Here's my non-speedy update!

Forseti- ...Sorry. It did have to happen. Now I'm a little worried about the reception of this story here. Busy summers are usually fun.

RoseMisre- It's so sad! I finished writing the story today, and I feel so empty. Must start another serious fic.

JoLanna- Never seen Fiddler? Shame. I was in it once... community theatre thing. I was a villager, just like Jehan! -is proud- Anyway, that was a really good guess. Welcome to the fic! Or something like that...

* * *

When Jehan was five years old, Mark and Nina got a call from Ryan about the five-year cast reunion, which was to be held at Ryan's apartment.

Mark returned the phone to its cradle and joined Nina on the couch. "Well? Should we get a sitter? He said to bring the _whole_ family, but..."

Jehan came trotting into the room, two GI Joe's and two Barbie dolls in his arms. He dropped that load onto the couch. Picking up the toys one by one, he explained matter-of-factly, "This is Kim... this is Ellen... this is Chris... this is John. Kim and Chris love each other," here he rubbed two of the dolls' faces together and made a kissing sound. "Mwamwamwamwa... But John and Chris leave Kim behind." He chucked the Kim doll across the room. "So Chris marries Ellen. Mwamwamwamwa. Then Kim dies. Yay!"

Nina laughed. "What have we done to this child?"

"Jehan," Mark said, "there's gonna be a party for out whole cast. It's gonna be real boring. D'you wanna go?"

The boy held up a GI Joe. "Will John be there?"

Mark and Nina exchanged glances. "Um... yeah," Mark sighed.

"I wanna go."

Studying the little sandy-haired boy, Mark began to worry. He looked suspiciously like Scott... The cast would be able to guess what had happened – or perhaps they would come up with their own warped version of the story. His main fear was that they would look at little Jehan and see Scott. "Are you sure?"

Jehan nodded, collected his toys, and returned to his room.

"Nina..."

"Well, I was a blonde when I was little, and it changed to dark brown around middle school..."

"He's not blond. That's brown, and so are his eyes! I have blue eyes; you have blue eyes; our son has brown eyes. How?"

"I don't know, Mark! I didn't take genetics too seriously in high school."

"Well... if you think it's alright then I'll go with it."

There was a crash and a high-pitched giggle from Jehan's room. Mark and Nina both leapt to their feet and rushed down the hall. They found the room in shambles: Jehan had overturned his toy box and chair, and was standing atop the pile with a red shirt in his hands. "Look, Daddy! I made you a barricade!"

Mark smiled at the terrified expression on Nina's face. "The kid's having a musical day, isn't he?"

Ryan opened the door. "Mark! Good to see you! And Nina. Who's this?"

"Jehan."

"Jehan? That's really... clever. Come on in." Then, over his shoulder, Ryan called, "Hey everybody, Mark and Nina are here!"

Amanda shouted and rushed toward them. "Nina! Look at you with a baby! You're a mother! How old is he?"

"He's five."

"Why didn't you ever bring him around the theater? Mark was in the show for, what, two more years after you left..."

She shrugged. Jehan suddenly began squirming and she had to put him down for fear of dropping him. He had spotted the man he was looking for, and he scampered across the room screaming, "John! John! John! John!"

John laughed. "Jehan, Jehan, Jehan, Jehan!" He grabbed the boy and swung him around before holding him upside down by the ankles.

"And to think," Mark sighed, "that's the man we leave our son to if anything were to happen to us."

"Nina, what're you doing now?" Amanda asked.

"Well... nothing, really."

"Nothing?"

"Raising the kids," Mark said.

"I'd rather do that than the show I'm doing now."

"Which is...?"

"Phantom. I'm Christine."

Nina grinned. "Of course you are. We've gotta see that."

"If you do, notice the guy playing Raoul. He asked me out. Name's Grayson."

"That would be just too cute," Nina said.

Amanda nodded.

"D'you like him?" she persisted.

Flushing, Amanda nodded again. Mark rolled his eyes and crossed the room to talk with Rob.

"Men," Nina sighed. They laughed. "So, tell me about Grayson."

Amanda began to speak, but Ryan climbed up onto a table in the corner of the room. "Hey guys? Everybody... Hi. Welcome to the five year cast reunion of Les Misérables! I know some of you left us more or less than five years ago – I see Drew over there in the corner – but I just don't care. Okay, I'm gonna try something here. I'm rereading Les Mis, see, and I notice that Enjolras has a habit of getting up on tables to make a speech. Well, then I start thinking about this reunion here, and I thought it'd be worth a shot for everybody to hop up on my dinner table here and fill us in on what you've been doing for the last five years. Some of you old folks like Rob and John might need a little help getting up here..."

"Hey!"

"Watch it, boy! I ain't so old as I couldn't kick your tail!"

"Sure, John. Okay... does anybody wanna go first?"

Jehan began to jump up and down, his hand in the air.

"Okay... Enjolras, Factory Girl/Fantine/Eponine, and company... I think you've been volunteered," Ryan said, hopping down.

Nina stepped up onto the table. Mark lifted Jehan up to her, then jumped up himself. "Well, you may not have noticed," Mark began, "but we have a son. This is Jehan, and he's five years old. I left Les Mis two or three years ago and got into Secret Garden as Dickon... Nina hasn't done anything since Les Mis... mostly raise Jehan-"

"Oh, and we're supposed to believe that boy belongs to you."

The room fell silent, and everyone stepped away from the girl who had spoken. She was a think Asian girl with stringy hair, sunken eyes, and hollow cheekbones. It seemed that she had once been attractive, but something about her was drastically wrong.

"Look at you with your dark hair and him with his all light brown!"

"Is that... Danielle?"

"What's wrong, Mark? You don't recognize me?"

"Not at all," he answered coolly.

Nina's cheeks was burning, and she saw that Mark's ears were turning red. He seemed more annoyed than embarrassed, though. Jehan was completely silent.

"Danielle," John said, "a child's hair is usually lighter when he's young. It'll probably get darker later on."

"His eyes, then! I thought you had something to do with him jumping like that, and your kid proves it! What did you do to my Scott?"

Complete silence filled the room. Nina stared at her, open-mouthed. The crazy light in Danielle's eyes seemed to fade, and she rushed out of the room.

* * *

A/N- I just finished writing the story out in my purple notebook of fanfiction today, so the updates should be more regular from here on out. I was so guilty about that taking so long that I didn't take time to do spelling/grammar check or any other type of proof-reading, so if this chapter sucked I'm quite sorry.


	3. At the End of the Day

A/N- AH! 'BEAUTY IN THE BEAST' AND 'MIZZIE MIZZIE BANG BANG' HAVE BEEN REMOVED! ARGH! _(weeps and bangs head against table)_ To make it worse, I don't know what to do with myself now that I've finished writing the WOL series. I started another serious story... a little scandalous, that'n. I'll post it after I finish posting this tale. AAAANNND to continue...

nebulia- Wasn't he cute? Little Jehan is based on Max, the sweet boy I babysit. Although Max is, in fact, three. Jehan is the combination of Max and his six year old brother Tanner. And yeah, Amanda is Nina's best friend. Obviously. Hehe...

Obsetress- I know it, we're twins. Wait... are you fifteen? But yeah, it was a cast reunion, and Danielle was, in fact, part of the cast. So she didn't _crash_ the party, per se, but she sure ruined it, didn't she?

Amber Stag- Welcome aboard! Yeah, being in Fiddler was the highlight of my acting career... I mean... it was my acting career. Except when I was the Crone in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. I had a soft-shoe solo... but I'm rambling now.

Marion- Rights to a movie? Sure, but you have to dedicate it to The Stalker From Heck/LesMisLoony, Pink Velvet, and their beloved Squishy... long story. Oh, and I get to cast everyone. Sorry that took so long (I feel as though I say that quite often) but there was that week-long ban from the site and blahdeblah...

* * *

When the Mark and Nina returned to their apartment, both were still visibly shaken by Jehan's outburst.

"Hullo, gang," John grinned, greeting them at the door. "I've got Little Mark asleep in her room. So..." he turned to Mark, "how was your first day as Simeon?"

Both their faces brightened. Mark had been Simeon's understudy in _Joseph and the Amazing Technicolored Dreamcoat_ for the past few months, and this afternoon he had actually been able to perform. It was agreed that his accent during "Those Canaan Days" was considerably better than the other man's.

"He was great," Nina smiled. "Too bad whatsisname is coming back this evening."

"My dear woman, just because I was infinitely better doesn't he'll give me his role like Diana gave you Fantine. Not everybody's that crazy."

John nodded. "So where's Jehan?"

"On a date, apparently," Mark answered stiffly.

"He-" John began.

They were interrupted when a little black-haired girl came scampering into the room and threw her arms around John's legs. "Don't leave!"

"Little Mark? Come on, kid, I just told your folks you were asleep!"

"John," Nina sighed, "why do my children love you so much?"

"Hey, it's not just your kids," John corrected her. "Everybody loves me."

Mark knelt in front of the child. "Cosette, you don't even wanna say 'hi' to your parents?"

She sighed pitifully. "Hi Mommy. Hi Daddy" another sigh, "Bye John."

"Come here, you!" Mark grabbed Cosette and tickled her until she screamed with laughter.

Nina and John watched for a moment, amused. "Oh, John, is there going to be a fifteen year reunion?"

"Yeah. Ryan's still in charge. We missed you last time."

She rolled her eyes. "I was nine months pregnant with Cosette; I could barely walk! So, Ryan will call us?"

"Nah... he visited everybody last go-round."

"Good. Oh, you'd better leave before Cosette remembers you're still here. See you tomorrow?"

"Same time, same place," John agreed. "Oh, and tell Mark I said he does a better tickle attack than me."

"Can do. Bye."

Cosette finally wriggled away from Mark and he admitted that she had won. "Now go to bed, okay sweetheart?"

Nina watched the girl skip off to her room. "J-O-H-N says your tickle attack is better than his."

"Of course it is."

"How long do we have till you have to go pick up Jehan?"

Mark looked darkly at his watch. "About half an hour. What d'you wanna do till then?"

"Just half an hour? Ick." She scanned the room, and her eyes fell upon the bookshelf. "You can help me organize the scrapbooks."

"That'll work."

They spread the old photos across the living room floor and tried to put them in some kind of order. Nina designated a box for pictures from Les Mis, one for Mark's stuff, one for Jehan, one for Cosette, and one for herself, and one for "other." Neither of them discussed the contents of the "other" box aloud. When they had finished only several hospital papers and two ultrasounds had been put in this category.

"Here's our wedding," Nina smiled, holding up a picture. "There's my parents... your dad... John and Amanda..."

"Yep, and your mom looks just as crazy as ever."

"Mark!"

"It's true. D'you remember how she treated me when-"

"Yeah, but she's been nice to you ever since, right?" Mark said nothing, and Nina poked him. "Right?"

"Ow! Fine, fine. But you know she's crazy," he teased.

"Oh, get out of my house!" she laughed. "Go pick up your delinquent son and ground him until he's fifty, okay?"

"Is it time?" Mark asked, looking at his watch. "Oh, right." He got to his feet and grabbed the car keys from the hook by the door. Nina followed him.

"See ya in a minute," she said.

He put an arm around her waist and kissed her. "Love you."

"You too," she answered, closing the door behind him.


	4. I've Done No Wrong

A/N- Everyone, enjoy this chapter conceived for the sole purpose of FLUFF. Yes, it's a fluff attack, and it makes me go Aww. So, enjoy it while it lasts. Sorry that took so long, but I was kinda expecting more reviews. _-shrugs-_ Oh, and I know it'll look like I'm sorta making fun of Southerners with the way Sara and Jason talk, but I'm from North Carolina and that's how I talk, so if anyone takes offense then you're just being silly. So meh.

Marion- Huzzah, multiple reviews! I saw Stephen Tewksbury _-nods-_ He was good. I love Les Mizerating people (that's a new word, ya know. Fresh from the forums.) And yeah, almost all Mizzies are inSeine. We'll make a movie of it someday. Yep... D'you want Jehan? Nobody's asked for him.

nebulia- Yeah, she's got the whole Mark black hair thing goin' on. I think this site's gone paranoid, a bit. Man, I will MISS A Ridiculously Cliched Muder Mystery by Mystical Chinchilla... _-cries-_ That's the story that got me into fanfiction and parodies and this site and Montparnasse and...

RoseMisre- Assuming you can see this, would you like me to e-mail you that chapter? I could do that, gladly. My school's got these new ANNOYING controls on the internet that block sites with words it doesn't recognize, meaning I can barely do anything fanfiction related at school anymore, which stinks. A lot.

Obsetress- Hehe... sure. About the half an hour thing... We're... um... semi-twins. Yep. I'm sure that works somehow.

* * *

A week before their wedding, Mark and Nina visited Nina's parents in North Carolina. They'd just come from Mark's father's house in Philadelphia, where Nina had been treated like one of the family. Now, however, as he stood before Nina's mother and father, Mark found that he was rather nervous.

"Hey, Ponine! We haven't seen you in ages! Why're you visitin' us all of a sudden?" her mother, Sara, demanded.

"Momma! You got our wedding invitation, right?"

"Yeah, and we thought it was real sweet of you to marry a boy we'd gone and approved of for you."

"Now Sara," her father interrupted, "Ponine lives in the city now, bein' onstage and whatnot. She don't have too much free time."

"I know, Jason, but you'd think my own baby'd let me meet her boyfriend 'fore she goes and gets herself engaged!"

Nina cleared her throat. "Momma, this is my fiancé, Mark. We're gonna spend the rest of our lives together. Why don't you try to make a good first impression?"

Mark's ears were bright red.

"Look at you, Ponine! You're gainin' weight! That city's no good for a girl like you!"

"Sara..."

"I'm talkin'! Now, just cause you've got yourself a fiancé don't mean you hafta let yourself go like that. You oughtta stay cute at least till you're married. And-"

"Momma, if you don't stop right now, Mark and I will get back in that car and drive home and get married without you! You're embarrassing us both. Don't you even wanna speak to your future son-in-law?"

"Sara, think how you'd feel if _my_ momma'd treated you this way 'fore she'd even let you in the door," Jason added.

There was a moment of silence. Mark's eyes were focused on the porch, and his ears were a violent shade of crimson that was spreading to his cheeks. Nina saw this and took his hand in hers.

"What do you have against him, Momma? He's everything you tell me to look for – he's sweet, he loves me, I love him, he's an actor in Les Mis..."

Mark's entire face was as red as Enjolras's flag.

Jason smiled. "My goodness, Sara, let the kids in 'fore the boy's head busts."

Nina's mother sighed and stepped away from the door.

"It's late, kids. Y'all eaten?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," Nina said, "we stopped at a restaurant a while back."

"I'm sorry, son, we ain't been properly introduced. My name's Jason, this's my wife, Sara... and I guess you know my daughter Eponine."

Mark grinned nervously at him. "Sorry to be trouble. I'm Mark."

"And I'm exhausted," Nina said. "Where do we take our stuff?"

"You go to your old room, Ponine," Sara answered. "That boy-"

"Mark," Jason interrupted.

"He goes to the den. And Jason, make sure we leave our door open tonight."

Mark grabbed his bag and followed Nina to the den, where a couch had already been folded out into a bed.

"And there's a bathroom through the kitchen, down the hall, and on the right."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

Nina rolled her eyes. "You don't have to be afraid of me," she said pointedly. "Nina, remember? Future wife? A bit in love with you? Any of this sound familiar?"

He smiled. "Sorry."

"Don't worry, Mark. My mom's crazy. She treated every boy I ever dated at least as bad as that. Dad'll keep her straight."

Mark dug a set of flannel pajamas and a toothbrush out of his bag while Nina went upstarts with her things. She looked around her old room – nothing had been moved. A dark blue trenchcoat and top hat hung on her coat rack, a large poster of Young Cosette covered one wall, and her little shrine to Les Mis sat in the corner.

Nina put her bad down on the red rug in the middle of the room and sat on her bed. As she was removing her shoes she heard her mother talking across the hall.

"Some kinda simpleton boy who don't even talk!"

"D'ya think you mighta scared 'im like to death? Poor kid..."

"The nerve of her! Never even met him and I get an invitation one day – oh, by the way, ma, I'm gettin' married! I didn't even know she had a boyfriend! Then she comes traipsin' in here like..."

Nina closed her door.

Downstairs, Mark lay on his back for what must have been an hour, watching the fan turn. He assumed that Nina's parents' room was directly above him, for he heard them stomping around for nearly fifteen minutes. And then the house was still.

A floorboard in the next room creaked, and Mark sat up. Nina slowly opened the door. "Did I wake you?" she whispered.

Mark shook his head. "I couldn't sleep."

"Worried about Momma?"

He nodded.

"Me too," Nina said, crossing the room and seating herself next to him.

Mark sighed and took her hand in his. "She's right."

"No, she isn't. Don't say that."

"You could have done better than me."

"Don't be stupid, Mark. You saved my tail and I love you even more for it. If the richest, the most handsome, or the most talented man in the world had proposed to me I'd have turned him down flat. Unless it was Michael Ball, of course."

"Oh, thanks," Mark smiled. "You'd take some older guy over me..."

Nina laughed. "You know I'm kidding."

"Are you?"

She rolled her eyes and flopped back across the bed. "Yes, Mark, I was kidding. I promise."

He lay next to her. "So... your mom is a psycho?"

"Only about guys. But don't worry – it isn't hard to fall in love with you. She'll be okay after a while."

"I remember the first time I saw you," he said softly.

"Yeah?"

"I was talking to Ryan and John when I looked up and saw this beautiful girl walking across the stage, looking kind of lost. I said to John, 'Who's that? Who's she?' and he said, 'Must be the new girl taking Sophie's place.' I said, 'You don't know her name?' 'No,' he says, 'but I heard it was something weird.' I wish you'd seen the look on his face – our faces, really – when we found out your name was Eponine." Mark realized that Nina had fallen silent, and he turned his head to look at her. She was asleep, a peaceful smile on her lips.

Without even considering the possibility of waking her, Mark cautiously stood up and lifted her into his arms. Nina sighed in her sleep and laid her head on his shoulder. He moved quietly through the kitchen and up the stairs; the second step from the top let out a horrible squeal, but it didn't disturb Nina.

As he was trying to figure out which of the four closed doors led to her room, one of them opened and Sara stood there, her arms akimbo.

"Oh, and explain this," she hissed.

Nina slowly opened her eyes at the sound. She saw and understood the situation as Mark returned her to her feet. "Momma... You don't really think... You couldn't _possibly_-"

"And what's your story?"

"I went down to talk to him... I couldn't sleep..."

"You let this boy deflower you, is that it?"

Nina's face lost its color as quickly as Mark's turned red. "No! Momma, Mark would never..."

Sara took a step into the hall, firmly closing her door. "Just tell me one thing, baby. Are you... Have you ever... How far've you gone with a boy?"

Nina didn't know what to say. Her hand went to her stomach.

There was a moment of steely silence as Sara glared at them. "And how'm I s'posed to take that?"

Neither answered.

"I see what happened. You got my child pregnant, didn't you? That's why she ain't so thin as she used to be and that's why this weddin' popped up outta nowhere, ain't it? You're gettin' married cause you got no other choice!"

"No! It's not like that at all! We-"

"Then tell me you ain't pregnant."

Nina hesitated and glanced at Mark. "I... I can't say that."

The triumphant look on Sara's face faded into one of horror.

"But it's not what you think!"

"Sure it ain't! That boy went and... I'm done with you! Both of you! I'd disown you if I could, Eponine! All my hard work trying to raise you as sweet as Cosette and you still turn out just like Eponine in the book, but you're marrying your Montparnasse!"

Nina interrupted. "I am marrying a man better than Marius, even, because Marius was angry with Cosette when the wind blew her skirt too high so that an old man could have seen her ankles! She couldn't help it! It wasn't her fault!" Nina felt tears gathering in her eyes. "How was she supposed to know? ... What could she have done?" she buried her face in her hands.

Mark glanced at Sara's face and said quickly, "It's late and she's tired," before he put his arms around Nina and let her cry against his shirt. "It's okay, Nina, we know it wasn't your fault," he whispered into her hair. "Listen, it didn't change who you are... I still love you. You're still sweet and beautiful and kind... You're right, it wasn't your fault, okay? It wasn't anybody's fault. Don't think about it. Here, your mom's giving us a look... Don't cry."

Nina lifted her head and looked at her mother, who was staring at Mark in the strangest way. "Momma?"

"Is he always like this? He don't have a dark side? It's like I'm watching a cheap movie or somethin'."

Nina smiled weakly. "He's pretty close to perfect. Except he does tend to hold grudges."

"Will you just let that go?" Mark said incredulously. "She hit you with a car – I think I have an excuse!"

Sara blinked. "I'll hafta ask about that later. First... I feel like I missed somethin' here. My child's cryin' about a story she's known all her life..."

"We have to tell her," Nina whispered. "Oh no, Mark! I can't... Please don't make me go through it again..."

"Do you want me to try and tell her?"

"Please... Oh, now I'm crying again."

"Go ahead and cry," Mark whispered. She buried her face into his flannel nightshirt again, and he stroked her hair. "About a month ago Nina went to a party. I didn't go... I'll probably regret that for the rest of my life. A guy showed up at the party drunk and must have put something in Nina's drink. Next thing she knows she's waking up in an empty apartment the next morning..." he stopped, and the look on Sara's face told him that she understood the rest of the story.

"And you... you said you'd marry her even though she's gonna have this fella's baby?

Mark nodded. "I love her, ma'am."

"Well," Sara muttered, "I can see I've been an idiot. I shoulda trusted my child."

Nina wiped her eyes and sighed. "So you forgive me for wanting to marry Mark?"

"Do I forgive you? Shoot, child, I wanna marry him now," Sara laughed. "Oh, don't look at me like that, boy, you know I ain't gonna marry you."

Smiling, Nina kissed Mark's cheek and hugged her mother. "You'll be at the wedding?"

Sara nodded.

"But not as the bride," Mark said quickly.

Nina kicked him.

"Ow."


	5. Can It Be?

A/N- Um... um... unh... Don't kill me. It hurts me worse than you.

nebulia- Cyber-cookie for reviewing! Only two reviews... that hurts. Yeah, they definitely have a strange relationship.

Marion- Stalking people is crazy fun! I stalk a hothothot senior named Squishy. Okay, that's not his real name. That's what I call him. But your stalkee is named Mark? Sexy. I love the name Mark as of writing these stories. Speaking of Mark... _-bursts into tears-_ Please don't kill me!

* * *

The kitchen phone rang and Nina went to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Nina, don't wash those dishes."

"Mark? You just left, why're you calling me?"

"To remind you I said I'd wash the dishes. Don't wash them."

"Where are you?"

"In the car. I'm about to pull into a gas station."

"You're driving and talking on the phone?"

"Yeah..."

"I've said not to do that a thousand times."

"Why? I'm not about to wreck."

"It has been said, Mark, 'chances are, if you need both hands to do something, your brain should be in on it too.'"

"But I'm only using one hand to drive."

Nina couldn't help but laugh. "And you're missing the point."

"It's okay, I've stopped at the gas station now."

"Good."

"Hey... it's Montparnasse..."

"What?"

"There's a teenage hoodlum standing outside the gas station, looking suspicious."

"And he makes you think of Parnasse?"

"Yup. The lady inside looks like... whatsername... Sister... the one who never lied."

"Simplice," Nina said automatically.

"That's her. Listen, I'm gonna need both hands and a brain to pump gas and pay for it."

"Great. See you later. Love you, Mark."

"I love you."

Nina hung up the phone and turned with a smile to the dishes. Mark always promised to do these things, but he often forgot or put it off too long. She filled the sink with water and slid all the dishes into it. A note had been hidden under the last plate.

I told you to leave me these. –Mark 

_PS Look in the closet..._

Leaving the dishes in the sink, Nina went to their bedroom and opened the closet. A red rose lay on the floor, accompanied by another note.

_DVD Cabinet._

When Nina found another rose and note with directions wedged between _Jesus Christ Superstar_ and _Moulin Rouge_, she realized what he was doing and smiled. After a while she had twelve roses, which she put into a vase on the kitchen table.

It was just like Mark to do something randomly sweet like that. She thought back to their honeymoon, when he had insisted on buying everything but telling her nothing in advance, leaving everything to be a surprise.

Nina finished the dishes and settled herself on the couch with another book in the _Scarlet Pimpernel_ series.

The phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Jehan, what's wrong?"

"Didn't Dad come to pick me up?"

"Yeah, Jé, he left about half an hour ago. He's not there yet?"

"No. Amy's mom picked her up a long time ago. I'm calling from a payphone."

"I guess he'll be there..." Nina was cut off by a knock at the door. "Someone's here, Jé. Listen, call back in ten minutes if your dad hasn't come yet."

"Okay. Bye."

Nina went to the door.

A policeman stood in the hall, his hat in one hand and Mark's wallet in the other.


	6. Plein de Douceur

A/N- _-sobs-_ Here, have some more fluff! I'm sorry... _-blows nose- _Yes, well, flashbacks save the day.

Sorrowful Wind-Whisperer- Believe me... it's harder for me than just about anyone... because I love him so...

Obsetress- What's odd is that I can now see your review. _-shrugs-_ Well, a cyber-cookie to you, too!

nebulia- Your dad's name is Mark? Awesome. I officially love everyone named Mark. Except my English teacher, who is bald and not that old. Young bald guys named Mark are slightly less cool.

Marion- "aforementioned" is a pretty darn cool word. And middle names are eevil. With two e's. Yes, we'll make that movie... someday in the future...

Mlle Verity le Virago- Wow, that review made me feel so bad for you... And yet it somehow reminds me of my own life... and the Disney channel's evil plot against Boy Meets World which I thought would be thwarted by ABC Family... but then I was wrong... Yeah, long story... Ahem.

RoseMisre- I started to e-mail it, but became aware that your address showed up as "litlegumba" without a destination. And do you need more than the second chapter?

Amber Stag- After much deliberation and inner turmoil a la Jean Valjean. _-sniffle- _Don't worry, things turn out semi-happy in the end. Anyway, I had to make myself stop before I wrote another story... fourequal and frequal don't exactly roll off the tongue.

* * *

"Got you this," Mark smiled, handing Nina the Original Paris Cast CD of Les Misérables.

"Original... Mark, these are expensive! Aren't they about fifty dollars? Honestly, you already bought us the tickets to... where are headed?"

"It's a surprise, which is why I got the CD. Here, turn it up so you can't hear the announcement about our destination," he said, handing her a CD player and headphones.

As she fitted the little speakers into her ears, Nina sighed. "Most people know where they're going on their own honeymoon."

Mark laughed. "Be quiet and listen to the $50 CD."

It had actually cost him $73.50, not including shipping fees, but he was afraid Nina would complain that he'd spent too much. Mark stared out the window as the plane began to roll down the runway.

About an hour later, Nina pulled one of the speakers out of her ear and handed it to Mark. "I love this song," she whispered.

The two listened to "Sous les Etoiles." By the time "Rouge – la flamme de la coleur" began, Mark realized that Nina had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. He laid his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes.

He didn't realize he, too, had fallen asleep until something beeping in his ear woke him up. The CD player had been set to 'repeat all' and had run out of batteries.

Mark glanced out the window, smiled, and woke Nina. "Look."

She blinked a few times and gazed at the view. At first nothing but clouds could be seen, but they thinned as the plane dipped lower. Buildings began to take shape, and Nina noticed something tall and thin in the distance. At last she recognized the shape – the Eiffel Tower.

"Mark!" she gasped. "We're in... Paris?"

He nodded. "Where else would we be headed?"

Nina laughed and hugged him.

"Yeah, this is great and all, but between these plane tickets, the CD, and the stuff I've paid for here, we'll be living off of bread and water for the next few months."

"No, I sold my apartment."

"You what? When?"

"Not too long ago. I boxed up everything before we went to Philadelphia, and some of the cast should be moving it to your apartment about now."

"Okay... so we won't have to decide whose place we move into."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not," Mark said, kissing her cheek.

Upon leaving the airport, Mark and Nina went straight toward the Luxembourg Gardens, then Pont Neuf, the mall built over the Rue de la Chanvrerie, and le Tour Montparnasse. As it began to get dark, Nina noticed Mark repeatedly checking his watch.

"Do we have somewhere to be?"

"We most certainly do," he said vaguely.

"And where is that?"

"I'll show you," Mark said after glancing at his watch again, "but close your eyes first."

Nina complied, and Mark led her around for a few minutes. She imagined that they must look odd – a tourist girl from America wandering the streets of Paris with her eyes closed, being led by her husband.

They stopped at last, and she heard Mark say, "_J'ai nos billets... la_."

"_Merci, monsieur. Entrez_," answered a stranger's voice.

Nina sensed that they were inside. Mark took her somewhere and then told her to sit in what felt like a theater chair.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Nope. Keep 'em closed till you hear it start," Mark answered from the seat beside her.

"We're in some kind of theater... and there's a lot of people sitting behind up."

"Right..."

"And-" she was cut off when the opening notes of Les Misérables crashed through the theater. Nina's eyes flew open. They were in the front row. "Oh, Mark! No wonder you're broke!"

He smiled and pressed her hand to his lips.

Nina leaned over and kissed him, ignoring the armrest that was boring a hole in her side. "I don't deserve you."

"_Chut!_" someone behind them hissed.

Nina rolled her eyes and turned back to the stage in time to see the convicts march in.

"_Pitié, pitié, c'est ta vie que tu traînes. Pitié, pitié, au boulet de ta chaîne..."

* * *

_

A/N- Sorry if any of that French grammar-ness was screwed up.


	7. He Is Gone

A/N- Listen, I need you guys to vote whether or not I put in one last flashback as the next chapter or continue where I am, okay? Just say in your review whether or not the next chapter should be a flashback, cos I'm not sure whether or not to add one more. Also, I PROMISE the ending will make up for this chapter. Yes, I swear by the stars.

nebulia- Isn't he? I love him so... _-weeps_-

Marion- Awesome for the Red Sox... all I know about baseball is that Babe Ruth was a Yankee... I've always loved that guy... I dunno. As to Mark... agh.

Mlle Verity- This scene was meant to be lovlier, but I just can't work it out right, so this is what I've got. I decided to go ahead and post it because I've been revising it all week and am still not happy, but I don't wanna leave you guys in a lurch.

T-R-Us- _-ducks-_ Well, they save the day for a few minutes, anyway. Yes, that's my future honeymoon, too. And Mark is my future husband, or someone just like him.

elenlaurelin- Yay! That's what my ickle flashbacks are for. I needed some happy in here before I just cried.

Obsetress- I dunno if I said this on IM, but I spent exactly $1.10 more on my OFC this week than Mark did on his (curse whoever it was that started crazy bidding against me at the last minute!) It's kinda scary, though. Yes, Mark's just too sweet.

RoseMisre- Neither can I... some computers... tsk.

* * *

Nina stared at the policeman, unable to comprehend what this meant.

"Ma'am, do you know this fellow?" the officer asked, flipping Mark's wallet open to his driver's license. "Name's-"

"That's my husband. Why? Where is he?"

"I'm afraid I have some bad news, ma'am."

"Bad news? How?"

"Your husband stopped at a gas station earlier today, and there was an armed robbery. Some trigger-happy teenage gangster hanging around outside with a gun hidden in his jacket saw your husband and-"

"Where's Mark?"

"Down at the hospital, but-"

Nina cut him off yet again. "I need to make a call, then you'll take me there." And, without letting him protest, she went over to the kitchen wall phone and dialed the apartment downstairs.

"Talk to me."

"John? Did I wake you?"

"Oh, no... I was just going out to party with some hot young chicks," said her friend, stifling a yawn.

"I need you to do me a favor."

John seemed alarmed at her seriousness. "What happened? Are the kids okay?"

"Yes, they're fine. Listen, I need you to come watch Cosette for a while, okay?"

"What's wrong, Nina? Where're you going?"

"To the hospital."

"Oh God, Nina, what happened?"

"Mark... I dunno. Just come up here, please."

"I'm on the w-" said John, hanging up the phone so quickly that Nina couldn't hear the rest of his sentence. Indeed, he was upstairs within a few moments, and he and the policeman spoke quietly for a few moments while Nina checked on Cosette. The child was fast asleep.

* * *

Nina rushed into the hospital, the poor police officer barely keeping up. In the car he had explained to her that Mark was still conscious and alive, but the bullet had caused irreparable damage, and he would not last the night. None of this news meant anything to Nina, who did not comprehend anything. All she knew was that she wanted to see Mark.

This building was to Nina a giant flashback. She had come here after the car accident with Bri, when she and Mark first started seriously dating. The next time had been when Jehan was born, then Josephine and Marguerite, and finally Cosette. She remembered the times that she and Mark had left the hospital with no baby after weeks of hovering about the premature ward, and how the first time they had both been a little upset at chance, but the second time... Mark was almost inconsolable. He had convinced himself that the girls' deaths were his fault, considering that Jehan had been born healthy and on schedule. It took a long time for Nina to convince him that he could not be blamed, and it was even longer before they worked up the courage to try again. Cosette was born premature as were her sisters, but she had lived.

"May I help you?" asked the nurse at the desk.

Nina tried to speak, but no sound came out.

"Her husband," the policeman volunteered, "a tall man with dark hair... fatal bullet wound... he hasn't been here long."

"Oh, right. Down the hall and take a left. Room 19."

Nina didn't even thank her before taking off again. She found room 19 and was about to enter as a nurse was leaving.

"Are you going to see the patient?" the girl asked. "Wait, are you Nina?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"He's been talking about you ever since he got here. You'll want to get in there as fast as you can – I don't think he has but a few minutes," she said, turning around and opening the door again. "Sir? You've have a visitor."

"Oh, please, send her in," said a weak voice that was barely recognizable as Mark's.

Nina almost pushed the nurse over in her hurry to get inside. Mark was in a familiar white hospital bed, his shirt folded over a chair and a thick, red-stained bandage wrapped around his stomach. "Nina," Mark smiled feebly, holding out his arms, "you made it in time."

She leaned over the rail of the bed and held him close. "Mark... this can't be happening... I love you, Mark... Don't..."

He sighed. "I wish I could help it. I love you, too. Don't ever forget that. I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I wrote you all notes while I was waiting; they're on the table over there. Now you must promise me something for my trouble."

"Of course I will," she whispered, anticipating his request.

He smiled again, and said, "I shall know. Listen, take care of Jehan, and..."

Mark was quiet for a moment, and Nina leaned back to look at him. All of the color had drained from his face.

He smiled again, slowly leaned forward, and kissed her. Nina held him as long as she could, and he pulled her even closer.

After a few moments Mark drew away, studying Nina's face. He wiped the single tear from her cheek with his thumb before whispering, "And tell Cosette I love her, and I'll see her when I wake."

And Mark fell back on the pillow, serene smile on his pale lips.

* * *

A/N- Don't forget to vote.


	8. In The Rain

A/N- Ladeda. Okay, the flashbacks won it by one vote! Wow. And so I'm putting this chapter in because it has blood – yay blood – and fluff – yay fluff – and it continues to torture poor Mark 'n' Nina while expounding on Mark's sweetness. This'll probably be the last flashback, because after a while I get kinda tired of 'em, although I have several more written out for whatever reason... like deleted scenes... Okay, while I'm still cheerful there's something absolutely weird I have to tell you. Seriously. Okay, so the hotness guy at my school, Squishy, the one I based Scott's looks on, I stalked him for about half my freshmen year and most of this year. Meanwhile, Squishy has a best friend who I tend to call Fluffy. Fluffy's kinda cute, but it's more like aww-look-at-the-little-dorky-guy cute. Ryan in WOL looks like Fluffy (and yes, we shall see Ryan again). Well, here's the story I wanted to tell. So, I'm all obsessed with and stalking Squishy-Scott, right? Just like Nina was. Then, sometime in the last month, I randomly found I was switching to Fluffy! Like Nina did, if Fluffy was Mark. Whoa. And I suspect that Fluffy likes me, though I'm not entirely sure. See, now all I need is for Fluffy to run out in front of one of my best friends' cars so I can save him and get run over! Sorry, I just thought that was weird and that it needed to be shared.

T-R-Us- Uh-oh... a rant... _-eye twitch-_ Am I in trouble?

Obsetress- Haha you rock! D'you wanna be staff to my C2 community? It's like The Greatest LM Parodies of All Time or something, and for some reason it doesn't show up except through my profile... It does exist, though, I promise. Yeah, I hate those last minute eBay people... they should be punished...

nebulia- Sadly, yes I do. But don't worry, things start looking up after the next chapter, and by the end I should have made up for all of this.

Mlle Verity- It's true, blood is lovely. That's why I'm writing Montparnasse's life story (my next serious work, after I finish WOL). And there's blood here, in this chapter.

Marion, that is SuperCrazy01- Yay for the Red Sox. And, of course, I'm dreadfully sorry about what happened to Mark, but I did badly need a plot, as you probably noticed from my Author's Notes and things during the first two stories. Congrats on your Mark! See my entire stalker story in the Author's Note.

H. Sibelus- Yes, last words have become something of a motif here, along with the forehead-kiss of Eponine death and... I'm sure there's something else. My English teacher would be proud.

RoesMisre- Don't feel like a sap! Crying at fanfiction is fun, unless you're in the library at school. Then it's just bad.

Pink Velvet- Hah! I watched the video again last night, except I was watching Fluffy instead of Squi, and haha it's great. You should see him during Officer Krupke and As Long As I'm Here With You (the one where they're all in suits except that one girl). And Mama Says... WHEE... it doesn't matter... Did I tell you about that? Bekah's too funny. Hmm... what else... oh, the last song, You Can't Stop the Beat... you hafta see it, really. I'm having a Squishy party part two as soon as I get a video of the homecoming show.

Sorrowful Wind-Whisperer- Ooh, evil Marks make me angry. Especially if they're evil Marks who butcher LM...

elenlaurelin- Yay, the first person who admits that I'm not evil, just an author! _-cyber cookie-

* * *

_

Another crash of thunder shook the building as Mark put the last plate away in the cupboard. Rain pounded against the kitchen window, and he turned to watch it.

"Mark?"

Nina had come in behind him and was standing in the doorway, a hand against her swollen stomach. "What's wrong? Is it time?"

She nodded.

"Alright, let's go."

The two hurried down the hallway and into the elevator, Nina gripping Mark's fingers. "Don't be afraid," he murmured. "We're going to be parents."

"_I'm_ going to be a parent," she whispered.

"And what am I, the guy door? Listen to me, Nina, we agreed that I'd be the child's father."

She said nothing.

"What is this, some pre-parental slump?"

"You shouldn't have to put up with this. This isn't your fault. You and I've never even..."

They'd left the elevator and were partway to the front door. Mark grabbed her arm. "Nina, look at me. Look at me. I married you and I knew perfectly well that you were going to have a baby. And I've been waiting for you these nine months-"

"But you shouldn't have to-"

"Why? Why shouldn't I?"

"Because you aren't the _father_."

Her eyes were on the floor again.

"Nina... did you marry me?"

"Yeah."

"Did you marry Scott?"

She winced at the name.

"Did you?"

"No."

"Do I love you?"

"I guess so."

"You guess so? I adore you. Does Scott? Does he love you?"

She shrugged. "No."

"Do you love me?"

Nina finally smiled. "A bit." Mark raised an eyebrow and she laughed out loud. "More than Cosette loved Marius."

"That's better. And how much do you love Scott?"

"I love him as much as Cosette loved the Thénardiers."

"Where is Scott, Nina? Where is he?"

She swallowed. "Dead."

"Where am I?"

Again Nina smiled. "Right here, with me."

"And that's where I'm going to stay. Let's go have us a baby."

Hand in hand, Mark and Nina stepped out into the storm. Lightning flashed across the night sky as Mark hailed a cab. "Take us to the hospital, please," he said, climbing in after Nina.

As the cab rolled to a stop at an intersection several minutes later, Mark caught the driver studying the couple in his rearview mirror. Thunder rattled the car windows.

"Guess you'll want me to be quick, then," the driver said, eyeing Nina's stomach.

"Couldn't hurt," Mark called back over the rain.

The other man grinned. "In this weather, I'd be afraid to-"

The cab suddenly jerked forward, and Mark could hear a crashing sound that seemed to come from far away. Before he could think he found that he had unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed Nina, pulling her into his arms and shielding her with his body. He felt like he was being prodded by hundreds of needles as the rear window shattered and sent shards of glass flying through the cab and, for the most part, into his back.

Everything was finally still and Mark sat up. Nina's eyes were wide.

"Are you okay?"

"My... my water just broke..."

"Oh, splendid." Mark leaned over to push the door open, but the force of the collision had jammed it shut. He found that the same was true for the door on Nina's side. "Well, we can't have a baby here! I wouldn't know what to do and there's glass everywhere and – how will we get out?"

"What about the rear window?"

"I don't know, there's a minivan half buried into this taxi's trunk and the broken glass is... What the deuce, we'll risk it."

Nina smiled weakly as he helped her up and brushed several pieces of glass away from the rear window. He stepped up onto the misshapen trunk of the taxi and held her hands as she climbed out to join him. Mark turned away from her to jump down and she couldn't help but cry out at the sight of his back.

"What's wrong?" he asked as he lifted her down from the car.

"Your back... Oh, Mark, your back is covered in blood! What happened?"

"I guess it was the back window..."

And older man was climbing out of the van. "Sir, ma'am... I am so sorry... Oh, God, this girl's about to have a baby! I've called the police already; you two get to the hospital! Where's the cab driver?"

Mark went over the to the front of the car. "Oh, no. Nina, come on," he said quickly, taking her hand and pulling her to the sidewalk. "Don't look," he warned.

She tried not to, but it was pointless.

The cab driver hadn't been wearing a seatbelt when the van hit them, and had been thrown through the windshield. His body lay sprawled across the hood in a pool of dark blood. The jagged pieces of glass still in the windshield's frame were tipped with red where they had torn though his skin as he was pitched forward.

"Mark! Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick!"

"No, you're not. Come on, it's only a few blocks to the hospital."

He put an arm around her waist to speed her up.

* * *

Mark held Nina's hand as she squeezed his fingers hard enough to break them. He winced, but did not pull away.

When they had entered the hospital several hours ago, a nurse had tried to take Mark to get the glass pulled out of the gashes in his back and shoulders and to have the wounds looked at, but he refused to leave Nina until the child was born.

She screamed again – a horrible sound. The worst part was that there was nothing he could do to stop the pain. Hadn't she suffered enough since that night at the party? Why did she need this physical pain on top of everything else?

Nina seemed to relax, and the doctor shouted, "It's a boy!"

Mark sighed in relief.

"Did you hear that, Nina? We're parents! You're a mother!"

She brought his hand to her lips. "Thank you for staying with me."

Mark smiled at her, brushing a sweaty lock of hair from her eyes with his free hand. This whole night was starting to run together... in fact, his vision was beginning to blur, and his ears had been ringing for the past hour.

"Alright, loverboy," the doctor said as he handed Nina the tiny baby. "Will you let us look at you now?"

Mark nodded and began to follow the man. He now felt as though everything was far away... like it was coming to him through a haze. The last thing he heard before passing out in the middle of the hallway was something about blood loss.


	9. Phantom Shadows

A/N- Sorry that update took so long… my life suddenly got busy. And then I loaded the chapter onto the site to update and I forgot to in updating all my other fics and... well, I have lots of excuses.

Sorrowful Wind-Whisperer- Thanks for deciding to laugh. Yeah, their life sucks quite a lot, but not much worse than... say... Ponine... or Montparnasse... their lives sucked...

elenlaurelin- Yay a squeehuggle! And of course yay for the fluffiness.

nebulia- In the words of dear Enjolras, 'Have faith.' Wow, you know I'm tired when it takes about seven tries to spell the name of an LM char right... That's a little embarrassing... Okay, now I dunno if I spelled _that_ right...

T-R-Us- I know, it's terrible, I have lots of blood on my hands. LOTS. But when I pulled myself out of my narrow world of crossover parodies I found that I really like blood and tragedy and angst. As you might know.

H. Sibelus- It would suck, wouldn't it? Yes, Mark is the sweetness. If anyone ever meets a guy as sweet as Mark, tell me about it so I can stalk him down.

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Nina stared at Mark's pale face, horrified. He was gone… he'd left her. She would have to raise Jehan and Cosette alone… She'd have to start working again… This was the last time in her life she would be able to touch Mark... hold him… If only…

She heard a sound in the hallway and leaned over the rail of the hospital bed, pressing her lips against Mark's forehead. "Goodbye," she whispered.

The door jumped open as the nurse hurried in. She froze when she saw the pained expression on Nina's face. "Oh, ma'am…" she sighed. "I'm so sorry. I am, really. … I was told to tell you that the police brought your son here. He's waiting down the hall in the emergency room."

Nina glanced at Mark again, laying a hand on his cheek before she turned to leave.

"Those are yours, ma'am," said the nurse, pointing to three pieces of folded paper.

Thanking her, Nina took the letters and hurried out of the room. She folded them over again and stuffed them into her pocket before reaching the emergency room.

"Mom? Where's Dad? What happened? Is he gonna be okay?"

"Jé… Oh, Jehan…"

"What? What happened? Mom? … Mom!"

"He was shot," Nina whispered. Her son's face lost all its color. "Some kid at a gas station tried to rob him…"

"_Is he going to be okay?_"

Nina couldn't find her voice; she just shook her head.

"No, Mom! No! Let me see him!"

"He's dead, Jehan," Nina said bluntly. "Your father is dead."

Jehan's eyes widened. "No," he whispered. "Mom… Mom! Do you know that last thing I said to him? Do you? I told him he wasn't my father, and to stop trying to be! That was the last thing I said to him!"

Nina held her arms out for him, but Jehan stepped away.

It was at this time that the same policeman who had brought Nina to the hospital interrupted.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but we've caught the young fellow responsible. Would you like to come down to the station?"

Nina bit her lip and nodded.

-

John was sitting on a bench outside the police station, waiting for them. Cosette was asleep in his lap. "How's Mark?"

"He'd dead," Jehan said coldly, and hurried past and into the building.

Slowly moving Cosette out of his lap, John stood and faced Nina. "Did that boy just tell me…?"

"It's true," she nodded, blinking back tears.

John stood still for a moment, trying to comprehend what she was saying. Mark, gone? He looked at Nina, who was staring at the pavement and trying not to cry. "Come here," he sighed, holding out his arms. Nina stepped forward and let him hug her. "It's okay to cry, kid," he murmured. "Mark was the best guy I know. He was a great friend… He was crazy about you. I remember the first time he saw you… Your first day at the show… He comes rushing up to me saying, 'Who's she? D'you know her?'…"

She listened to him talk and cried silently into his shoulder. John's voice seemed to be getting hoarse, and Nina realized that he was fighting back his own tears.

"Mommy?" asked a tentative voice.

Cosette was awake; she stared at Nina and John with large, frightened eyes. Both the adults quickly dried their cheeks. "What's wrong, baby?"

The little girl looked seriously from John to Nina. "Why are you sad?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow, honey," said Nina. "John, can you take her back home? Please?"

He took a shaky breath. "Yeah, sure, kid. Hey, little Mark," he called cheerfully, "d'you wanna hang out at my place?"

Cosette's face broke into a radiant smile. "Yeah!"

"Come here, then."

The child clambered down off the bench and went to John, yawning widely. He scooped her up into his arms, and she laid her head on his shoulder – the same shoulder her mother had been crying on moments before. John gave Nina a half-hearted smile.

"Thanks," she whispered. He nodded.

Nina went into the police station, her heart pounding. She was going to meet the man who killed her husband – her sweet Mark. Jehan was sitting on the floor in the corner of the lobby, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head in his arms. Nina saw his back shaking with quiet sobs. She approached the policeman who had brought her there. He was sitting at the desk, watching Jehan.

"Sir?"

The policeman looked up at Nina. At the same time, Jehan's head jerked up and he scrambled to his feet, hastily wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm ready," sighed Nina.

He lead her into another room where a teenage boy perhaps a year older than Jehan sat sulkily in a corner. He had long, stringy black hair and dark eyes. When Nina saw him, her thoughts immediately turned to Montparnasse. The boy had black baggy pants and a few odd piercings, but the first thing Nina noticed was his brown leather jacket. She chewed apprehensively on her lower lip.

"This is the murderer," said the policeman coldly.

Nina saw the boy wince at the last word. "He's just a kid…" she muttered. "What… What's your name?"

The boy glared up at her, then returned his gaze to the ground.

"He'll be an adult before he gets out of jail…" she sighed. "One stupid decision can wreck your life."

The policeman agreed with her, adding another insult to the boy. Nina looked closer at the young murderer and realized that his hands were shaking.

"What's your name?" she asked again.

He still did not answer, and she turned to the policeman.

"What's his name?"

"Who?"

"The boy."

"Oh, him."

She waited. "Don't you know?"

"Well, we don't know his last name…"

Nina looked again at the sad figure in the corner. "What do you know?"

"His first name." The officer glared at the boy before turning back to Nina. "Scott."


	10. A Grief that Can't Be Spoken

A/N- Tis the quickest update in the history of the Words of Love series! Happy Thanksgiving! I felt bad about taking so long last time, plus I kinda like this chapter. A lot. It fills in gaps.

H. Sibelus- It's a weird coincidental happening conceived during a particularly long English class during my freshman year. Yes, I've been writing the WOL series since I was in the eighth grade... Wow... Ficticious characters are the hottest kind! I have a thing for Montparnasse, and another for Edward Hyde.

Mlle Verity- Very good point... but if anyone _does_ meet a Markish type guy and _doesn't _want him for herself, then you have to tell me. As for the deleted scenes, I actually considered posting them as another story so I wouldn't de-umph-ify the ending, but I wasn't sure how that would be perceived. Just something like "Words of Love Deleted Scenes" ... because there are quite a few.

nebulia- It's true, twenty-one days is much too long. How about this update, is it acceptable?

elenlaurelin- Thanks muchly. Unless making you cry is a bad thing, and in that case I'd apologize. Oh, my,I can make the line a pretty color! WOW!

* * *

Nina closed the door of the apartment and turned to speak to Jehan. The boy rushed out to the hallway; Nina heard his bedroom door slam and the lock click.

She glanced unsteadily about the room. The dozen roses Mark had left for her earlier were in a vase on the table, his jacket was tossed into a chair, and his reading glasses were sitting on the bookshelf. Nina went over to the chair and put on the jacket, pulling it tightly around her body until she felt the hem at the bottom digging into her sides. She dazedly went into their room. The bed was made neatly – Mark's doing – and his pajama shirt was hung on the doorknob of the closet. Nina tugged the jacket tighter, enjoying the pain it caused her. She leaned back against the wall and slid to the floor, letting her forehead rest against her knees. Something crinkled; she reached into her pocket and found the papers the nurse had given her. There were three of them, and each was labeled in Mark's neat hand – "Nina," "Jehan," and "Cosette." Nina put the children's on the floor and unfolded the letter addressed to her.

_Dear Nina,_

_They can't do anything for me. You have no idea how terrible it is to hear those words. They tell me you're coming, and I'm praying you'll make it before it's too late. Every time a nurse comes in, I wonder if her face is the last I'll see, or if her voice is the last I'll hear. I don't want it to be, Nina. You know that. If you don't make it in time, at least keep this letter. _

_I keep thinking back about all the things we've done. I remember when I first saw you, and I think I made John find out who you were for me. Then when I asked you to go out to eat with me, and you said yes. I knew you didn't really love me, but I was hoping that maybe – well, exactly what happened, although your friend hitting you with the car was a bit unnecessary. When I thought you had died, Nina, I remember wishing she would back that car up over me, too. I love you, Nina._

_If you ever meet someone else, don't worry about me. You have two beautiful kids to raise now, on your own, and you're still as gorgeous as the day we met. Someone else will fall in love with you, if they haven't already. I think every guy our age in the show wanted to marry you, but you chose me. You are my life, Nina. _

_I have one thing to ask of you. On the top shelf of our closet is a shoebox, which I'm not sure if you've noticed or not. In it are things that mean a lot to me. I stole the idea from Hugo, of course. It's like an inseparable. I'd like to be buried with the things in there, if that's possible._

_I love you, Nina. Don't forget that. A doctor just told me to stop writing; I need to lie down. So I have to close the letter off. I love you. I could say it over and over and it would be impossible to express how much I feel for you. I love you. I adore you. Remember that._

_Mark_

Nina finished the letter and leaned her head back against the wall. Tears pricked at her eyes, but they did not fall.

She hoisted herself to her feet and pulled open the closet door, careful not to upset the shirt hanging from the doorknob. Standing on tiptoe and stretching her arm as high as she could, she could just reach the shoebox Mark had written about. With a bit of scooting and nudging, she finally brought the box down and set it on the floor. She took off the lid and began to lift things out.

The first thing she found was a clear plastic box with something white inside. She opened it and turned it upside-down; four baby booties fell out – two with pink bows and two with blue. Nina could not help but smile as she held these against her cheek. Jehan and Cosette's first booties… she never would have been able to keep up with them for this long. Nina put them back into the littler box and turned back to the inseparable.

She found two ticket stubs from the production of Les Misérables that she and Mark had seen in Paris, a program from the show they were in, and a soda can on a string that had been tied to their getaway car. Nina began to feel at peace as she lifted out these little reminders of the best times of her life.

And then she found an envelope. The word "Private" was scrawled across the front in what seemed to be a child's hand, but Nina opened it anyway. Inside was a yellowed clipping from a newspaper, an article titled "Philadelphia Woman Raped and Murdered by Gang." Nina read it, shocked. The article told of a woman who was out for a drive with her son when a gang accosted them at a rest station. The mother was raped, beaten, and killed right in front of the 9-year-old boy. Nina looked at the date; it was almost thirty years old. There was a small picture of the boy, and Nina squinted at it.

It was Mark.

* * *

_"Your dad's really nice," Nina said as Mark started the car. "I can see where you get it."_

_Mark smiled._

"_Where's your mom? Are they divorced?"_

_He was quiet for a moment, and Nina saw a muscle in his jaw twitching. "Should we go home before we visit your parents?" he asked stiffly._

"_No, we'll just go," answered Nina. She watched Mark's face as they turned back onto the highway and was surprised at the coldness in his eyes. She had never seen him as steely and silent as he was now.

* * *

_

The clipping shook in Nina's hands, and she released it, letting it flutter softly to the floor. He had never told her…

There was one more item in the inseparable. It looked like a shirt, and upon removing it Nina found that that was exactly what it was. It was a white shirt, but as she laid it on the floor she realized it was covered in brownish stains. There was one large stain on the chest and another on the shoulder, and as Nina stared at the shirt she began to realize what it was. She put her hand over the shoulder stain. None of the brown showed; her hand was exactly the same size and shape. Nina gathered the shirt up and held it against her face. It smelt like burnt rubber, and she felt tears gather behind her eyes again. It was the shirt Mark had been wearing when she had been hit by the car.

She repacked the inseparable and leaned back against the wall, reflecting on all that had happened in one day.

Still Nina did not cry.


	11. At A Glance

A/N- Sorry that update took so long, really I am, but it occurred to me that after this chapter there are only two more… NO! … and I started procrastinating… pooh. Anyway, I'm sorry for Nina's Mary-Sue-ish tendencies… really, I am. I just wanted it this way…

Obsetress- Haha I made you cry! Ahem. Thanks for all the e-reviews, though... they made me feel loved.

Sarah24601- Sorry these updates seem to take so long. This story only has one chapter and an epilogue left, so I shouldn't procrastinate so much from here on out.

nebulia- Nice words... May I use them sometime? Hehe.

H. Sibelus- As for John, I think Elyse3 claimed him earlier, but she hasn't reviewed since about halfway through the sequel. Josh, however, is certainly free, and will reappear next chapter. Yay!

Pink Velvet- ALAVOLUNTEDUPEUPLEETALASANTEDUPROGRESREMPLISTONCOEUR...

SuperCrazy01- Congratulations on your Mark! I think my Mark and I (if you remember from an earlier A/N) are in somewhere near the same situation... daggum shy people. Heh.

* * *

Two weeks after Mark's death, Ryan paid Nina a visit.

"Nina! I just heard the news… If you ever need anything-"

She stepped away from the door. "Come in."

"I was coming to tell you about the next reunion – it's been a long time… You cut your hair!"

Nina looked at the man standing before her. Ryan only a little taller than she (Mark had been a least a head above her) with thick, wavy, blond-brown hair. The thing she had always remembered about Ryan's appearance was that his eyes seemed to change color in different lights. They looked brown unless you were standing right near him, in which case they looked green. You could only see their actual color, blue, if you were face to face with him.

"You used to have glasses," Nina said.

Ryan nodded. "They made me look too old. I'll be forty in a couple of years."

"Me too. Mark's thirty-nine." Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. "Oh my God…"

"Oh, Nina… He was such a great guy… He… I'm so sorry, I just can't comprehend…"

"Imagine having to tell your five-year-old daughter that she'll never see her father again."

"Daughter?"

"Yeah… she's adorable. John calls her 'Little Mark'… she looks so much like her dad… Five years old, Ryan, and her father is dead."

"And Jehan?"

"He's been awful… He and Mark had a fight just before… the last thing Jehan said to him was… was horrible."

"I don't… I haven't… it's been ten years since…" Ryan made a gesture of helplessness and put a hand over his forehead. "I just can't believe…"

Nina felt tears gathering in her eyes again. She'd been fighting them since Mark's death, trying not to cry in front of the kids. Even when John took Cosette downstairs and Jehan went off to his show she could not cry. She had busied herself with other thoughts, trying to ignore the silence of the apartment and the dried, brown roses in the vase in the dining room. To put away his reading glasses or throw away the can of flat soda on the table meant accepting that Mark was gone, that he would never use these glasses or finish that drink… But now, as Ryan watched at her with those odd eyes, she knew that she couldn't run any longer. Mark was dead.

Ryan put his hands on her shoulders. "Nina…"

Her eyes were so full of water that she had to close them, and the hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She blinked and looked at Ryan. He sighed and pulled her into a hug. "Just cry," he murmured soothingly.

Nina did. She cried for Cosette, who was five years old and fatherless. She cried for the look in her daughter's wide, blue eyes when she woke up that morning and had asked where her daddy was, and then for the expression when she found out. Nina cried for Jehan, who couldn't forgive himself for what he had said. She cried for the way he had locked himself in his room the next morning, and the how he had completely given up on having any social life. And then she cried for her dozen roses, brittle and dead on the table.

"I hate my life," she whispered.

Her head was on Ryan's shoulder, and at these words he stepped back, looking into her eyes. "Why? You've got two great kids, awesome friends… You spent the last fifteen years with Mark… and Nina… look at you. You're still every bit as beautiful as you were the last time I saw you, and you've had a child since then."

"Three…" sighed Nina. "I've had three children since Jehan. Two were born dead."

She felt herself crying again, this time for Josephine and Marguerite, and for the spell of depression Mark had gone through after Marguerite's funeral, convincing himself that the girls' deaths were his fault.

Ryan cupped her chin in his hands and wiped away her tears with his thumbs the way Mark had always done. Nina closed her eyes and let herself pretend, even just for a while, that these hands on her face were Mark's. Then he hugged her again. Nina kept her eyes closed. If only these arms around her waist, these lips on her lips, were Mark's. A moment passed before Nina realized what was happening. Her eyes flew open and she shoved Ryan away.

Neither said anything. Ryan looked down at the floor, embarrassed, while Nina stared at him with a mixture of emotions that she could not sort through.

Someone knocked on the door, and both of them jumped. Nina hastily dried her eyes and answered it. John was standing in the hallway with Cosette asleep in his arms. "Are you ready for her?"

Nina took the child from him. "Thanks, John."

"John?" Ryan repeated.

"Who said that?" asked John, apparently startled by the sound of a man's voice.

"It's Ryan," Nina muttered.

"Ryan? What're you doing here?"

"Marking the rounds," he said, his voice taking on an air of cheerfulness. "Fifteen year reunion's at my place next week."

"Fifteen! Egad, has it been the long?" John laughed. "Hey, come down to my place and we'll have coffee or something."

Ryan glanced at Nina, then left with John. Nina waited until she heard the elevator door slide shut. "Well," she whispered to the sleeping Cosette, "that was awkward."

She took the child to her room and laid her down, then went back into the living room and threw herself onto the couch. Her head ached. Faces spun through her mind… Mark… Ryan… Scott… Jehan… She leapt to her feet and went over to the bookshelf, returning to the sofa with a souvenir booklet from Les Misérables. She opened it to the center page – One Day More. There was Mark in the very center… Josh riding someone's shoulders, waving the flag… Ryan at the edge of the formation… John with his hands on Amanda's shoulders… and herself in the Eponine garb, standing just behind Scott. She ran her index finger over the little blotch of ink that represented Mark, sensing that she was going to cry.

* * *

Jehan arrived home an hour or so later. He was ready to complain to his mother about the taxi driver who had barely spoken any English, but he found her asleep on the couch. A souvenir booklet was lying open on the floor.

He sat down next to it, his curiosity piqued. He had never seen the entire cast of Les Misérables from when his parents were in it. Jehan flipped the booklet open.

There was John accepting his yellow-ticket-of-leave… some woman he didn't know as Fantine… a whiny looking young Cosette… there was his mother as Eponine. He was surprised at how much she looked the part. His eyes traveled down the page… there was Mark and…

Jehan blinked. Mark was standing next to another man whose face could not be seen, as he was turned to surveythe poor people in the background. What caught Jehan's eye was the man's hair – it was sandy brown colored and _exactly like his own._ He looked closer at the picture – it had to be Marius. The boy flipped to another page with a bigger picture and brought the book closer to his face. This man looked almost exactly like an older version of himself. He glanced at the name near the bottom of the page.

So that was the answer to the big mystery of his life. Mark wasn't his father after all – this guy Scott was.


	12. All I Need to Know

A/N- ACK! Tragedy! This hugely long whopper is pretty much the last chapter, although there is an epilogue afterwards… Man, what am I gonna do with my life after this? (Want me to tell you? I already have another angst/romance type fic written and ready to post. Heads up, all, for "Charmer of the Shadows")

H. Sibelius- Does that qualify as "hurrying"? Probably not... well, merry Christmas! I'd send you a present,but updating is easier... Thanks so much for your retaliation to that random... ahem... idiot again.

Obsetress- I hate evil computers... The ones at my school have so many blocks on them that they usually forbid me to come to this site.

nebulia- Cyber cookie for remembering the Muchisetta/Joly thing! After this you could... erm... read Charmer of the Shadows... _-big pleading eyes-_ I'm a Ryan fangirl myself, although I greatly prefer Mark.

Danica Enjolras- Yes, and I apologize profusely for it. And yes, Rob is still yours, thanks for returning! Rob is in this chapter, you know.

ponine4ever- See review by H. Sibelius.

Pink Velvet- And thank you for your kind words... Did I tell you the quartet now has six people? That's right, I get to chill with Squiffy on Christmas eve. And Wednesday at the practice Fluffy was sick, and I caught it... Yay, I'm sharing germs with theboy!

SuperCrazy01- I'm sorry about your Mark's finger, and glad it healed. Hehe... yayfor Marks!

Disclaimer- I don't own Les Mis, its lyrics, or any other show mentioned in this entire series. The idea for the first one came from my friend Sara, and the plot of the sequel and assistance to the threquel came from ma bonne amie Pink Velvet. Christopher Mark Peterson, Squishy, Fluffy, and BriAmi all have characters based on/named after them, and I don't own any of these people (sadly.) There, a whopper disclaimer to go with a whopper chapter and a whopper series.

* * *

"Nina!" shouted a woman on the other side of the room. "Oh my God, your hair!" She rushed over to Nina, followed by a good-looking man. 

"Amanda? Holy crap, it's been ten years!" Nina laughed, throwing her arms around the other girl's neck.

"I missed you! We'll get together more often from now on. Guess what! I got married!"

"You did?"

"Yeah," Amanda said, motioning to the tall blond man at her side. "This is Grayson… we met when I was in Phantom."

"Oh, right, Raoul! You told me about him last time, remember?" Nina shook the man's hand.

He smiled, and Nina couldn't help noticing that he was incredibly handsome. "So you're the famous Nina, then? She's been talking about you nonstop since I met her."

"Uh-oh," Nina grinned.

"We've been married for about twelve years now, and that little girl over there is our daughter," Amanda said proudly.

"What little girl?" asked Nina, scanning the room.

"D'you see those two girls over there, the one with the curly black hair and the blonde one?" said Amanda, pointing. "The blonde is our girl Meg. I don't know who the other one is."

Nina smiled. "I do. That's my Cosette."

"Cosette and Meg," Grayson repeated. "We've got it bad, haven't we?"

"At least no one here has named their kid Enjolras…"

"Fantine."

"Courfeyrac."

"Thénardier."

"Montparnasse."

"Eponine," Amanda said.

Nina punched her arm. "Hey!"

"Oh, right…" she laughed.

"Nina, is that you?" asked a young man, joining their group. He was probably in his twenties with dark hair and big brown eyes. Nina stared at him blankly.

"Are you somebody's kid?"

"I can't believe you don't remember me!" he said. "It's me, Josh!"

She gasped. "Little Joshie? You're all grown up!"

Laughing, he put out his arms and she hugged him. "You haven't changed much. Except your hair."

"My hair, my hair!" Nina sighed.

"How much did you get cut off?" Amanda asked.

"Fourteen inches."

"Wow," said Josh. "Did you give it to the bald cancer kid thing?"

There was a brief pause, and then all four of them began to laugh.

"What's the joke?" asked a man's voice.

They turned their heads, and Nina recognized Rob of Javert fame. He joined Nina, Josh, Amanda, and her husband Grayson as they caught up on life and show business. Rob had been Gus in Cats, had had a divorce, and was trying to get into the movie business. Josh was engaged, Orin in Little Shop of Horrors, and had just left Jekyll & Hyde, where he had been an ensemble member and the Newsboy.

"Wait," Nina laughed, "you went from being the newsboy who has, what, two lines-"

"Five. I sang three lines in Façade and two in Murder, Murder."

"Five, then. You went from that to Orin Scrivello, as in the dentist with a solo and that song where you die?"

"Yup. I get fed to a man-eating plant twice a day and they pay me!"

Amanda laughed. "And Rob here is Gus, huh? You always were a ham."

"You have to sing that whole song in… what is it, Latin?" Grayson added.

"Growltiger… nice." Nina smiled.

"For your information," Rob said in mock offense, "I have one of the biggest parts in the entire show. I get to be operatic and-"

"So what're you and Grayson doing nowadays?" Josh asked Amanda.

Rob huffed. "I can see I'm not wanted here."

They laughed and all hugged him, assuring him that he was indeed loved.

"It's just that we've all seen Cats once, and that was quite enough," Josh grinned.

"Okay, that was uncalled for," Rob said. "You've insulted my bread and butter."

"I've seen Cats twice," Nina said. "I took Jehan when he was little, and then we took Cosette just recently."

"Did you see me?" Rob asked.

Nina shook her head. "It wasn't that recently."

"What did Cosette think?"

"She fell asleep."

"Okay, okay, I get it, everyone!" he sighed. "I'm off to get something to eat… anyone wanna come?"

Josh and Grayson joined him, leaving the two women alone.

"So, you know all about my married life… Where's Mark?" Amanda asked. "I haven't seen one of you without the other since… that car accident thing. D'you remember that?"

"Do I remember that?" Nina repeated. "Do I remember my childhood best friend getting drunk and hitting me with her car?"

"Oh," Amanda giggled, "good point. So where _is_ Mark?"

"He… uh…" Nina really didn't want to think about it. She had been smiling and enjoying herself for the first time in about a month. But of course she would have to tell the whole story again, and then she would start crying, and all of these people would want to know what was wrong, and she'd have to tell them, too…

"Mom?" Jehan asked, joining them. "Is everybody here?"

Nina sighed in relief. "Yeah, Jé, I think so. Why?"

He scanned the crowd, then turned back to her. "Where's the guy who used to play Marius?" he asked, looking carefully into her eyes.

Nina looked at her son, reading a look of defiance on his face. He knew! But how could he? What did he think? She crossed her arms tightly over her stomach.

"Drew?" Amanda broke in. "He's over there, talking to Grayson, John, and Rob."

"No… the guy who played Marius after him."

Nina shuddered.

"D'you mean Nick? Nick… you didn't stay long after he came, Nina. Remember him? There he is, over there. He took over after Scott."

"That's who I mean," Jehan exclaimed. "Scott. Where's he?"

Again Nina saw that his eyes were on her, and she felt a little dizzy. How had he found out? Was he angry?

"Scott… we don't really know what happened with him. He disappeared for two weeks and then turned up dead in the park. They said it was suicide… I dunno, if I was Scott I would never have killed myself."

"Why not?"

"That man was _hot_! What's wrong, Nina?"

"Nothing," she whispered, staring at Jehan. The boy sneered at her before leaving their group. "Amanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Danielle here?"

"Omigosh, Danielle! She's not here yet, but she's probably locked up somewhere."

"Locked up?"

"She showed up last time and kept wandering around asking where Scott was … She thinks he's still alive, you know."

"She's insane?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. I mean, I'd never seen a crazy person before, except in movies and stuff, but she kept muttering and looking all weird and… ugh. I hear she got her license revoked after driving drunk and getting some poor guy killed. I think she just couldn't handle Scott killing himself like that… I mean, it was pretty awful for us, but imagine what it must have done to her! They were deep in love, you know. They kept making all those cutesy plans that annoy most people, like where they would live when they were married and what their kids' names would be…"

"It's my fault…" Nina whispered.

Amanda didn't hear. She was distracted for a moment and then said, "Hold on, Grayson needs me." Nina watched her cross the room and join her husband. He slipped an arm around her waist and said something that made her laugh.

Nina sighed miserably. She had a feeling that Mark and Grayson would have been friends, had they ever met. If only Mark were here…

Someone laid a hand on her shoulder, and Nina spun around. Ryan smiled nervously at her. "Can we talk?"

She followed him through the room and into his empty kitchen. Remembering their last encounter in an empty room, Nina took a step back.

"No, don't leave. I- I just need to talk to you alone."

She bit her lip. "About the other day?"

"Nina, I'm so sorry. I didn't… I never wanted to… Well, I _wanted_ to, but I certainly never intended… It just happened. The way… it's because…"

"Because every guy our age in the show wanted to marry me," Nina whispered, remembering Mark's last letter. "I thought he was exaggerating…"

"What?" Ryan asked.

She shook her head.

"Mark was one of my friends, Nina. I noticed when he started staring at you from the wings… He was a great guy, but he was never very subtle…"

Nina couldn't help but smile.

Ryan seemed to relax. "When I saw how taken he was with you – I mean, it's Saint Mark we're talking about – Enjolras incarnate… Well, then I started to notice you… Nina… Do you remember when we were Joly and Muchisetta? I… I didn't have to… to pretend…"

She stepped back again. "Ryan… it's only been a few weeks… I need time, okay? I'll think about it, but…"

"I'll leave you alone."

"But I was wondering… Can you tell everyone? About Mark?"

He nodded. "Anything."

"Thanks."

"Mom!" Jehan called, coming into the kitchen. "I need to talk to you."

Ryan shrugged slightly and left the room. There was a moment of silence as Nina and Jehan stared at each other. "So… you've figured it out?"

Jehan rolled his eyes. "Of course I did."

"What'd you decide?"

"What d'you think? You were having an affair with the hot guy and married Dad, so the hot guy killed himself!"

"What?" Nina asked, startled. "I was…? No, Jé, I've never really loved anyone but Mark. It's true we married because I pregnant with you, but we'd have been married eventually even if I'd never gone to that party…"

"What party? What're you talking about?"

Nina sighed. "Look, Jé, I liked Scott for a while because he was really, really good-looking. But then Mark and I became friends, and he… well, he's the sweetest guy I could imagine… I fell in love with him, Jehan, and… well… there was this party, see, and Scott came late and drunk… and then he put something in my drink… and I woke up…" she broke off. "I never told you because I was afraid you would think I loved you less just because I didn't love your father…"

Jehan seemed to reel, and he put a hand on the counter to steady himself. "I was born because of… of a crime? Because of drugs and alcohol?"

"Jehan…" Nina stepped toward him, but he shook his head and hurried out of the kitchen. She leaned her forehead against the doorframe and closed her eyes. From the other room she heard Ryan asking everyone's attention, and she returned to the party.

Ryan was standing on a chair, motioning for everyone to listen. When the room finally fell silent, he said, "Maybe you all remember me getting up on this chair last time. I had bad news then, and I have more now. Since the five-year reunion we've had to stop and think of all the people who aren't with us. First there was Scott, who committed suicide, then Andy, who had cancer… Now we have another name to add to our list."

Everyone began scanning the crowd, trying to see who was missing. Nina crossed her arms over her stomach and tried not to cry or catch anyone's attention. Cosette left her new friends and joined her mother. Amanda caught their miserable expressions, and her mouth dropped open.

"A few weeks ago," Ryan continued, "Mark was shot and killed in an armed robbery. He leaves behind his wife – our Nina – and his son and daughter, Jehan and Cosette."

As he was speaking no one heard the door open; no one noticed an Asian woman with stringy hair slip into the room.

"I know this is a terrible blow to everyone – Mark was one of my best friends in the show…"

"What?" a husky female voice interrupted. "Nina, you killed another one?"

Ryan fell silent, and the entire crowd turned to see Danielle, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"Why look at me like that? You all know it's true."

"Danielle," John said thinly, "I see the past five years haven't changed you much."

She laughed – Nina shivered at the sound. Danielle looked around the room, and her gaze rested on Jehan. "My God…" she muttered. "It's him…"

Nina grabbed Jehan's arm and swung Cosette up onto her hip. "I have to go," she said quietly, starting toward the door. Everyone moved aside for them but Danielle.

"You killed him," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "Admit it."

"I've never killed anyone in my life. Move, Danielle."

"Not until you admit to everyone what you did."

"Nothing! I did nothing!" Nina insisted.

Danielle reached for Jehan, but he recoiled. "What's wrong, Scott?" she growled, trying to make her voice softer. "You don't remember me?"

"He wasn't there, Danielle! He's just a boy!" Nina was aware that the eyes of the entire room were fixed on them.

"Oh, but he knows. Don't you know, Scott? She told you, didn't she? Or maybe not… After all, you'd be ashamed to know what a whore she was. He called me Nina once… Tell everyone what your mother told you."

Jehan glared at her. "She never loved anyone but Mark, you psychotic bitch."

Eyes wide, Danielle took a step back.

"They should have locked you up," he continued, "to stop you blaming your crazy boyfriend's suicide on my mother."

Danielle glowered at him, Nina, and the silent crowd behind them. Making a sound of defeat, she darted into Ryan's kitchen.

"Bye, everyone," Nina said quietly as she and her children went out to the hallway. When they were partway to the elevator she stopped and turned to Jehan.

"Jehan… thank you, son. You're really a good kid."

He bit his lip. "I love you, Mom."

Cosette kicked Nina's leg gently. "I wanna go to the elevator, Mama."

Lowering the child to the floor, Nina laughed softly. "We'll be there in a second, sweetheart." Cosette skipped down the hall and punched the down button, waving at her mother and brother as the door slid closed. "I'm not sure that's entirely safe…" Nina muttered. "So Jé? You forgive me?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I should be asking you to forgive me. I've been a jerk."

"I understand, Jé," she sighed, pulling him into a hug. "I love you, son." She heard a door at the other end of the hall open and close. "We're cluttering up the hallway," she said. "Let's go make sure Cosette hasn't been abducted."

Jehan smiled at her and she put an arm around his shoulders as they started down the hall. A floorboard creaking behind them, and they realized they were being followed. Nina let go of Jehan and turned around.

Danielle was standing behind them, her eyes lit with a violent passion. "Run," Nina whispered to Jehan.

Shaking his head, Jehan answered, "I'm not leaving you here with this nutcase."

Danielle grinned wildly. "You tried to take him from me," she muttered, "but you won't do it again. I won't let you kill him again. I'll kill you first." She brought her hand from behind her back and Nina saw that she was clutching a steak knife, apparently from Ryan's kitchen.

"Run, Jé," she repeated, but he shook his head again.

"She's right, Scott," Danielle laughed, advancing toward Nina. "You'd better get out of here… I wouldn't want to hurt you."

Glancing from Danielle to the knife, Jehan began scrambling for ideas. This woman wanted to kill his mother – who knew why… something about her boyfriend… his father… She thought that he was this guy… _She wouldn't want to hurt him._

Taking a deep breath, Jehan stepped between his mother and Danielle. "Leave her alone," he said firmly.

Danielle's gaze shifted from Nina to Jehan. "Even after what she did to you – to us? She deserves it, don't you remember? She killed you!"

Jehan glanced back at his mother before continuing the charade. "She didn't kill anyone… he… I… killed myself. I did it."

"But why?" Danielle moaned, letting her arm fall to her side.

"I… Because I was… Because of what I did."

"Leaving me?"

"No… well, yes, but more what I did to her," Jehan said, motioning to Nina.

Danielle's face darkened. "What you did to her? You did nothing to her! What about what you did to me?"

"I…" Jehan looked back at Nina again. She smiled thinly at him, although he only read worry on her face. "Raped her…" he finished. "I raped her."

Danielle reacted as though she had been slapped. She blinked and looked at the knife in her hand, then into Jehan's eyes. Something seemed to click, and she whispered, "You lie."

"No… no, I don't," Jehan said shakily.

"You aren't Scott! You aren't!" Danielle continued, her voice getting louder. "You're a kid! You're _her _kid! You wouldn't know!"

Jehan stepped away from her.

And then Danielle gasped. "You're the boy! The little boy from the other reunion! Mark said you were his, but just look at you! Look at you! She raised you, and she told you these lies!"

"They aren't lies!" Jehan shouted. "Your stupid Scott was an damned rapist!"

Danielle cried out in rage and lunged at Jehan, plunging the knife into his chest. Nina screamed. The boy's eyes widened and he clutched at the spot, but Danielle yanked the knife out again and jumped back. A dark stain widened across Jehan's shirt and he turned to face his mother, a frantic look in his eyes. Nina reached for him, but he collapsed onto the floor, dead. Danielle's hands were covered in blood; she grinned at the crimson knife, then turned on Nina.

She felt nothing at all. The knife was buried to the handle in her stomach, and blood was oozing out, flowing over Danielle's hands. The other woman pulled the knife out, and Nina put a hand over the wound, watching the blood run between her fingers. A door slammed and she looked up… Several of the people at the party had heard her scream and were running toward them, John at the lead.

Danielle saw them coming, looked down at Jehan's body, and thrust the knife into her own chest.

"Oh my God!" John shouted. "Jehan! Oh my God! Nina!"

Nina took a step back. Her wound had stopped bleeding. "I… I think I'm okay…"

John didn't seem to hear. "Somebody call the police!" he called over his shoulder.

Amanda glanced at the floor by Nina's feet and screamed.

None of them were even looking at her. Nina moved her hand away from her stomach and looked down at it. It was clean. She jumped and then looked past her hand, at the floor. Jehan's body lay on the ground, and Danielle's with the knife still buried in her chest. But between the two she saw herself.

"No…" Nina whispered.

The elevator door slid open, and Cosette stamped out. "Hurry!" she cried. John skirted the bodies and ran to the child, scooping her up in his arms, but it was too late. "Mommy!" she shrieked. "Jé!"

"Cosette," John sighed, "poor kid… Listen, kiddo, you're gonna stay with me now."

She threw her arms around his neck and began to cry. John laid his cheek against her hair and blinked back his own tears. Nina shook her head. "I can't be dead," she breathed.

"Nina?" said a voice behind her.

She slowly turned around.

Mark stood there, a sad smile on his face. Nina's stomach plunged and she ran to him, throwing herself into his arms. He spun her around once and kissed her.

"Should we go?" asked another voice. Jehan was leaning against the wall, watching them and trying not to seem moved.

Nina reached out and pulled him into the hug.

Mark nodded and tousled Jehan's hair. "We should go."

"But Cosette…"

"John's going to take her. It'll be all right now. You're here," Mark said, kissing her forehead.

Nina smiled. "That's all I need to know."


	13. I'll Sleep In Your Embrace At Last

A/N- The deleted scenes I mentioned earlier, I've decided to post at random intervals on my xanga site. In case anyone's wondering. This chapter was originally a lot more vague, like the last chapter of the Book, but I changed it for some reason. Hope it's not too random, just tying up loose ends. _-begins boxing up characters to send to reviewers-_

nebulia- _-ties the bow on the Ryan box-_ Take good care of him, okay? He's very much based on my beloved Fluffy, so he's quite dear to me. Tchao then, and thanks for your lovely reviews!

Obsetress- Aw, thanks muchly. I feel so loved!

T-R-Us- Ah, yes, Miss Saigon is infamous for its ability to make one cry. Well, thank you for all the kind reviews you've written me! I'm glad my little story entertained some people.

elenlaurelin- Yes, I'm a bit sadistic, really, and I've developed a love for blood. Blame Peter Jackson. Don't worry, though, all goes well with our little Cosette!

H. Sibelius- Sorry, it's my blood obsession thing.I like death, blood, and angst... which is odd, seeing as I started as a parody writer... hm. Thanks for following the fic and reviewing, of course.

SuperCrazy01- Aw, come on! You know blood is cool! Huzzah for your sister and your TAC. Thanks for putting up with my angsty outpourings on here, and thanks especially for reviewing them.

Danica Enjolras- _-drops the Rob box in the mail-_ Now make sure he eats at least three times a day and has a comfy place to sleep. I'm glad you popped back in before I was finished! Thanks for reading.

Mlle. Verity- I've elected to post the flashbacks at my xanga site (accessible through my profile, I b'lieve) and even if you aren't a xanga member you could use my chatterbox, which is open to anyone, if you wish to comment or just verify that you've read them. That way they won't confuse my story or funkify the ending, but I can still do something with them. I've that doesn't work for you, then I can look at other ideas, I s'pose.

* * *

We visit the graveyard every Sunday. Sometimes Meg comes, and her mom always cries. Every once in a while other people show up, and they always seem sad. Mostly it's just John and me.

I look at John, sitting by those five graves with his white hair and his wrinkled face, and I worry that there will soon be six stones in the corner of the old graveyard behind the church. He says that if anything ever happens to him, I'll live with Meg's family. I like Meg's parents, but I don't want anything to happen to John.

I called him 'Dad' once, and he got angry. I think it was the only time he didn't seem to make sense. He told me that I had a father already, and he was the best father any kid could ever hope for. I said that I didn't really remember him, except a tall man with dark hair and blue eyes. He asked if I remembered my mother and brother, and I told him I remembered a woman with brown hair, a boy, and blood. When I told him I didn't remember anything about them he seemed upset. Then he found some papers that my mom had written and he gave them to me. That's how I found out about my parents' lives.

I always thought that John did a good job raising me. He sent me to school, and I make pretty good grades. I was in the spring musical. When John found out they were doing "Les Misérables" he made me audition, as if I wasn't going to anyway. I always loved that story. I tried out for Eponine – I'm an alto – but I didn't get the role. They told me I didn't have enough experience. They cast me as an extra, although I did have a few lines during "At the End of the Day." I got to be the factory girl who exposes Fantine. Somehow, when I told John, he didn't seem upset that I didn't have a better role. He actually seemed shocked, then impressed. It turns out my mother was the factory girl for a while. I told him that I had really wanted to be Cosette, but I didn't tell him why. The guy playing Marius… I've had a crush on him since middle school. But I don't have the range for Cosette, so there I was, stuck as a factory girl.

John came to the show every night. He told me that I was as good as my parents were, and that as soon as I graduated college I should start a career onstage. He's already started applying to some college in North Carolina, near where my grandparents live.

Sometimes John and I sing at the graveyard. He loves to sing, and so do I. We sing a different version of "Bring Him Home" for my family. With his white hair and beautiful voice, I think John looks exactly how Jean Valjean did at the barricades.

So every week we come to the graveyard and change the flowers. There are two smaller tombstones for my sisters. I never knew them, John says. Then there's the one for my brother, Jehan. My mother's is next, then my father's. All of them are normal gravestones with normal epitaphs except my mother's. On her grave is a verse in French. I didn't understand it when I was little, and I made John translate it for me. Now, however, I can read it.

Elle dort. Quoique le sort fût pour lui bien étrange 

_Elle vivait. Elle mourut quand elle n'eut plus son ange. _


End file.
